Memories Lost
by Eveilae
Summary: [Futurefic] Shikamaru awakens to find a good portion of his memories gone, a new Hokage and several of his teammates dead. As he tries to figure out what's going on, what he discovers is far too troublesome.
1. I'm Aware

**Warnings: **shonen-ai, language, drugs, corruption, torture, OOC Shika because he's high, slight spoilers for current manga.

* * *

**Memories Lost**

I think I've been here for . . . how long? I don't even know. They don't let me have a calendar, maybe for that reason exactly. Maybe whoever's keeping me here is a goddamn manipulative bastard. Maybe I'm dreaming, and in real life, I'm lying on a large grassy hill, the clouds sliding past, miles and miles above me. I dunno. Maybe it's not important.

I would feel lonely if the drugs didn't numb almost everything completely. I can feel them wearing off, though, and I wonder if I should call the nurse and tell her. I'm not afraid of the needles, I'll tell her. I'm a shinobi. I want the strongest shit they have, please. Cherries on top and everything.

She's there before I call her. I briefly entertain the idea that she's a psycho—no, _psychic_. That's the word. Yeah, but then I realize she doesn't have anything with her.

Damn.

"Nara-san. The Hokage would like to speak with you." The voice hits my ears, but it takes me a few seconds to realize it. When I do, it takes me a little longer to want to turn my head to look at the speaker. It takes me about a minute to _move _my head after I decide I want to. Goddamn it, _troublesome_.

"Tsunade-sama?" I ask, my voice coming out softer than I wanted it to. Was that some banging on the wall? I crawl over to it, and I press my ear against it. The plaster's cold against my ear, and I move back quickly. Ah, someone is trying to stop me from finding out what is on the other side of that wall. The Sound spies, probably. I'm about to tell her nurse, but her gaze stops me.

She's shakes her head as if I'm someone she should be _pitying_. Pity yourself, I want to tell her. You have to _watch_ me, or whatever your do. "No, Nara-san. The Rokudaime, Kyohei-sama." Who . . . who the _hell_ is that? I manage to force myself to sit up, and I give the woman a good once-over.

She looks pretty tall from down here. Maybe she's a _superhero_. Or is it heroine? I open my mouth to ask her when I remember she's waiting for me to do . . . something. Oh yeah, she's saying there's another Hokage! I _know_ that bullshit.

"You're lying. You're a Sound spy, goddamn it. I know the Hokage, and her name is Tsunade, not Kyo-whatever. Don't _shit_ with me!" I stand up slowly, my legs unsteady beneath me. "Let's go! This is a _battle_, now, between you and _me_!"

She speaks slowly, completely ignoring my challenge, as if I'm some kind of idiot. Well, I'm probably a junkie, now that I think about it. I don't know how long I've been taking these drugs, but I know they're fun. They make everything so much less troublesome. "How about you talk about it in your meeting, eh, Nara-san?"

I hiss at her. I wish I were a cat, actually. They get to sleep around and they don't take walks and they scratch you if you piss them off.

"Nara-san, don't make me call security."

"Yesterday, all my troubles seem so fa-a-a-ar away, but now it seems as though they're here to sta-a-a-a-a-a-ay." I can't sing, as Ino has told me several times. Ino. . . where is Ino? I don't remember . . .

"Nara-san!" the woman repeats sharply. "If you will please follow me, Kyohei-sama will explain everything." I stare at her blankly, and I wonder where her head protector is. Whatever. I don't plan on leaving with her, anyway. I'll just use my Kage Mane no Jutsu and . . .

I realize sharply that I don't remember the hand seals.

I follow the woman out reluctantly.

I can practically feel the drugs wearing off now, because I'm feeling just as paranoid but for a completely different reason. Where am I? Why can't I even remember the hand seals of my specialty jutsu?

There's a man sitting in Tsunade's chair. I want to pull him up and force him to tell me wear he's hidden her, but I have a feeling that if it were that easy, she would have done it herself. He's . . . large, but not like Choji—where is Choji?—and his hair is sandy, like sand on the beach. Hmm . . . sand. I like the beach, you know? You can lie there, ignoring everything else in the world but the calm presence of those white things.

"Shikamaru-sama!" he greets me with a friendly smile, interrupting my welcome reverie. Asshole. "C'mon, take a seat! Make yourself comfortable." He's very friendly . . . probably too friendly. He knows that I know. Or he's hoping I'm too doped up to know my own name. My name is Nara Shikamaru, take that! I have to stifle a giggle, because it feels like I just poked the dragon with a little sword that he didn't even notice.

MUAHAHA! I am the winner.

I stagger over to a chair and I stub my toe. Okay, maybe I'm not quite the hero, then . . . Cursing loudly, I fall into the chair across from him, my toe throbbing.

"So, Shikamaru-sama," he begins, his fingers intertwined beneath his slight double chin, and his words smooth and fake, "what do you remember?"

"I . . . " He knows I don't remember anything? Who is he, anyway? Larger than life, a conspicuous mustache attached to his upper lip . . . I would have remembered him, even drugged like I am . . . right?

Perhaps it isn't best to be his enemy, then. If he really is the Hokage, he could do me a lot of damage. I decide to play along, as it seems to be the best move to make at the moment. As long as I think this is a game, I won't find my head completely imploding painfully.

"I remember . . . Gaara got kidnapped, or something. Temari went back to Sunagakure, and . . .that's all I remember. It's all a blank." I don't mention these flashes of blood and screams and . . .oddly, I remember Neji. Black hair, white eyes, sometimes thinking of him makes me want to giggle inanely. Not now, though.

"Well, Shikamaru-sama," STOP CALLING ME THAT, DAMN IT! "you are probably very confused right now, and just so you know, you have been getting the best care possible here. The war between the Sound and the Leaf is over now. You experienced a few things that were . . . disturbing, I'm sure, and you've repressed them."

Since when do _I_, Nara Shikamaru, repress memories? "How long has the war been over?" I don't even remember it _starting_ . . .

The man smiles, as if he's fine with humoring me. Bastard. "For two years now. You were in a coma the first year, and then . . . well, you've been emotionally broken since then. I heard you were getting better, so I called you over. It seems it is true, after all."

War? Ah, goddamn it! What the hell is this! "Who . . . who died?" I don't have to ask whether or not anyone lost their lives . . . in wars, someone always does. I have never experienced a war—to my memory—but I have heard enough about them to know this much.

The man sighs, probably pissed that I'm taking the wheel in this conversation. Well, screw him. I want answers, and I want them now. Not even the Hokage is gonna keep them from me. "Shikamaru-sama, I do not think that this information is relevant to your recovery—"

"Who the _fuck_ died?" I cry, getting more worked up than I'd planned. The drugs are still working their miracles, then. My fingers hurt from gripping the edge of the table so tightly, but I don't let go. The pain makes my mind sharper. I need to get sharp. This is more like a game than I'd first thought.

He reluctantly answers, "Of those close to you, Hyuga Hinata, Inuzuka Kiba, Akimichi Choji, Yamanaka Inoichi, Tsunade-sama, herself, and . . . well, to put it simply, your own mother." My mouth drops open, and I hope a fly goes in and I choke on it.

How can my mother be dead? She's too stubborn and bossy to _die_. Goddamn it, she'd be too troublesome in heaven for someone to kill her!

And . . . Choji? How could I have _forgotten_? No, it's not possible. I would not forget Choji's death. Never. He's too large, he's too _important_. He would never become some little fact that could slip away.

"Shikamaru-sama, how about we dwell on a happier subject—" the Rokudaime begins gently, but I interrupt him quickly.

"What of the rest of the Rookie 9? And my father? Ino? Naruto? Sasuke?" The man sighs, but relents. Yeah, better damn well relent before I go ninja on his ass.

"If you want to hear of them so badly, well, Sasuke and Naruto are both missing-nin. After the war, we took Sasuke in to help him through the hard time he was no doubt having. Orochimaru used him, and as soon as he seemed to be losing, he dropped him rather quickly. That kind of abandonment can be hard to live with. Well, in any case, they falsely accused the village of villainous crimes, which we denied, of course. And so they left, like little children having a tantrum. Really, I think we're much better without them. As for the others," he continues after a short pause, "they are fine. Your father is safe at home, and Yamanaka Ino is working in her parents' flower shop."

Well, at least Sasuke and Naruto are still alive. If they were gone, things really would have been bad. Those two are as hard to kill as cockroaches. I hate cockroaches. It's not just a bug thing, either. Why can't they just _die_ damn it, like everything else. What's the point in living without a head, anyway?

"She has come to visit you several times, actually. I'm assuming you don't remember." It sounds like Ino's fine, too. I wonder how she dealt with Choji's death. She probably denied it for month before admitting it and breaking down. I feel guilty, because I should have been her shoulder to cry on. She was probably left with only Sakura to comfort her over her father and teammates's death, and that isn't how it should be. Damn it, I should have been there, too. I had the _right_ to mourn my best friend's passing!

At least my father's still alive. Although, knowing how attached he was to my mother, I don't know if he'd be doing so well. I don't want to imagine my father as a broken man, so I force myself to think of something else. Broken men make me think of puppets, and I feel too much like one right now to linger on that train of thought.

"Why can't I remember?" I ask him straightforwardly. I don't feel like bullshitting, not right now. Hopefully he'll give me a straight answer. If he doesn't I'll . . . ninja it out of him.

I'm going to keep my own little trump card, though. I remember _some_ things, now. Little flashes. For one, I do know now that I _have_ seen this man before, in this chair. I don't remember what words we might have exchanged, but I have the feeling they're similar to the one's we're exchanging now.

I remember someone probing my head.

"Your mother, your best friend, and several other people that you were close to were killed. It's perfectly understandable that you'd block the memories." No it isn't. Not for Nara Shikamaru. I don't _block _memories. I ignore them. There's a _difference_.

I still remember Team 10's first A Class mission together. It was the bloodiest thing I think I've ever seen, and I hope to ever see again. If I'm so easily traumatized, why don't I just block that memory while I'm at it? My mental state would be all the better for it, I think.

The drugs are definitely wearing off if I can think this through so well. I'm getting a headache, though, and I don't feel so numb anymore. I can't believe my brain actually put together the words _I'll ninja it out of him_. What the fuck?

I look up at him, clearing my face of any expression that might give me away. "Look, I am tired. Do you think we can stop this here, please?" Without even waiting for his answer, I begin to stand up. He nods his approval—as if I need it. I'm out of here, now.

"Yes, of course. Be sure to take your medicine. I want you to get better as soon as possible." I give him a thumbs-up as I exit the room to show I understand and that I'll be nice and submissive. Yeah, my _ass_ I'm taking that medicine. They'll have to knock me out with something heavy first.

The nurse stationed outside is ready to lead me back to my room. Don't I get any time to myself outside that room—that feels more like a _cell_ the more I think about it? It's a very suffocating place, even without the drugs to twist my mind and make me think I'm choking.

A flash of pink interrupts my thoughts and I pivot around to follow the color. Who _else_ has hair that unlikely?

"Haruno Sakura?" I ask tentatively. She turns around at the name, and a grin slides across my face before I can stop it. Someone I recognize, at last! But with one glance at her face, I can tell something is off. I keep the smile on my face, but now it's forced.

"Yes?" She responds carefully, as if unsure how to act.

"It's me, Sakura! Nara Shikamaru from Team 10. First to receive the title of Chuunin of the Rookie 9. C'mon Sakura, I know you know me!" I'm not _that_ much of a wallflower that her face should look so blank. Goddamn it, I went to save her precious little Sasuke-kun, didn't I? Remember, you idiot!

Even so, I'm not even done speaking, though, and she's already shaking her head. "I . . . I'm sorry. I probably _did_ know you, but . . . well, in an accident I lost a lot of my memories. I'm sorry. Maybe we can catch up some other time, though. Shitamaru, is it?"

I give her a half-hearted smile. "Shikamaru. It's okay, Sakura, thanks anyway." I let the nurse then drag me away, since her fingers have been itching to pull me off the moment I called out Sakura's name. Back to my cell. Yay, fun!

In that room, I sit there, depressed that I can't even see the clouds from in here. I keep trying to think, but my head starts pounding, as if it has become unused to thinking. What the hell are these drugs doing to me, I wonder vaguely. For just about the first time in my life I wish I were a medical-nin and that I had taken the time to study some kind of medicine, like most of the Nara. Then I might have some idea what's doing this to me. Laziness is it's own bitch, I suppose.

The days pass a lot like the ones before. A lot of sitting in my room, a few breaks to stretch my legs and to eat. I don't mind the monotony so much as the feeling I have in the back of my head that something is off. The more pills I tongue, the better I feel and the worse that feeling gets.

That's when I get an unexpected visit from an old acquaintance.

**Oooo, Azamiko, you've hit pretty close to the mark. The real question, though, is _why_. Thank'ee Fantastical Queen Ebony Black and Taeron. Whenever I have low self esteem I can just come on to and it'll shoot right up. xD**


	2. I'm Free

**Oooo, Azamiko, you've hit pretty close to the mark. The real question, though, is _why_. Thank'ee Fantastical Queen Ebony Black and Taeron. Whenever I have low self esteem I can just come on to and it'll shoot right up. xD**

**Warnings: **shonen-ai, language, drugs, corruption, torture.

**Memories Lost

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**

"Ah, Nara-san?" This woman is a different one, and I'm a bit suspicious. Only that one nurse has been to see me . . . who is _this_ woman? She looks a little nervous, as if she's doing something wrong.

"Yes?" I respond groggily, trying to put on the act that I'm drugged.

"Could you . . . could you please follow me?" Perhaps the way she's acting if the reason I decide to follow her to begin with. What if . . . with all the paranoia I've been feeling lately, the idea that someone might be trying to _help_ me is strange and a sudden relief.

"Yeah, sure," I answer, and I stand up off the floor. Sure, there's a chair and all, but it's just about as comfortable as the floor to begin with, and very itchy against my skin. I hate it.

I'm walking down the familiar halls, well, at least in the beginning. Pretty soon, I'm going farther than ever; even further than I had gone before I had been institutionalized. She opens a door for me, after gazing carefully both ways to make sure no one's paying us much mind, I suppose, and then she pushes me roughly, closing the door tightly behind me.

It takes a me a few seconds for my eyes to get used to the dark, but when I do I . . . well, I have to say I'm fairly surprised. "Neji?"

It seems like it is, even though he looks different. It's age, I suppose. I must looks different too, if not just because I'm far sloppier than I used to be. Barely anyone sees me to begin with, and it's too troublesome to care lately. My ponytail is pretty loose and low, and I have a good hunch that there are dark bags under my eyes.

His hair is still long, and held back simply with some white tie midway down his back. His expression is stony, but it's more . . . chiseled, I suppose one might say. He looks a lot taller, and I bet under his loose shirt that his muscles are far more defined. I try not to look him over too carefully, because I don't want to be thinking in terms of attraction, not just yet.

It's already been established that I am quite the equal opportunity lover, although I haven't done much of that. I mean . . . with Temari, but . . .

I don't want to think about Temari.

"Shikamaru-san. I'm glad." Personally, I don't think he _looks_ very glad, but that may be just me. Perhaps he's bursting with joy, in his own Neji kind of way. Or, far more likely, he's just being polite.

Either way I waltz over to the chair across from him at the table he's seated at, and I slump into it. "Yo, Neji. What's new?"

I think he's a little irked by the facts I'm acting as if nothing's going on. Well, if I _really_ start thinking about how I'm practically being held prisoner in this hospital . . .I just might go mad.

"Shikamaru . . . do you have any idea what kind of danger you're in?" He says this in slightly condescending tones, which pisses me off. Man, this is why I don't especially like Neji. For one, he's a prick to his cousin—who I remember with a shock is quite dead, now—and he gets all worked up over his branch family thing. Yeah, while it's irritating and all, Neji takes it—or for all I know _took_ it—too far, and made it into his life.

Plus, he's super strong, which he thinks gives him the right to be snide. Sasuke and him should have started club for arrogant, strong, intelligent pricks who lord it over everyone else.

"Probably not, but you seem to. Why don't you explain it to the idiot?" Yeah, yeah, I should probably at least give the guy a chance, but I've been cooped up in a room for who knows how long, and I don't feel particular pleasant. Would you?

He lets out a sigh, as if exasperated with me already. He speaks anyway. "Have you been taking their pills?"

Ah, so I was right. The pills aren't for my recuperation. I shake my head. "Good," he replies, and leans over to his right . . . and lifts a large paper bag up to the table. "Put these clothes on. Quickly. Hanabi will be here soon and it's not safe for her to linger."

I'm not one to be especially submissive and follow directions without seeing a point in it, but rules are there to be broken, I suppose. I pull the bag over to my side of the table, and peek in. A dark green dress is lying on the bottom, with a pair of blue sandals and a forehead protector. I look up at him, my brow knitted in confusion. "A dress? Don't tell me you . . . "

"This is not the time to assert your masculinity," Neji replies easily, and stands up, turning his back to me. "Hurry up."

I hiss angrily, but I don't say anything out loud. Mind you, in my head I'm cursing him off as well as I can. Even so, I pull the dress out and begin with slide the hospital gown off my shoulder.

"Erm, Neji?" I ask awkward, the dress on completely except for the zipper in the back. "I could use some help . . . " He looks back, and takes note of my dilemma.

"Take it off," he orders firmly, now coming over to me. What? Take it _off_?

"No!" I cry, crossing my arms over my chest in a weak attempt to impede Neji from stripping me. What the hell is Neji trying to _do_!

"Shut up! Don't yell; you'll attract attention. You need to put on the _bra_ first, idiot." Said contraption is hanging from his finger, as if he doesn't want to touch more of it than he has to.

"B-bra?"

Neji rolls his eyes, and approaches me again. This time I don't make such a big deal about it, and I let him pull the dress off my torso without so much as a _fuck you, you conceited bastard_. He allows me to pull on the bra on my own, and then begins to cautiously makes several futile attempts to hook it in the back. "Fucking thing," I hear him utter under his breath, and I chuckle.

He finally gets it to work, and I look down at my chest. I poke on of my 'breasts' and the fabric gives under my finger. "This thing isn't doing a thing for my figure, you know." Without a single word, Neji takes something else out of his bag.

Socks. What am I, some prepubescent girl forced to stuff her bra with socks? Apparently so, because Neji swiftly sticks his hands into my bra and tries to shape them into faux breasts. Of course, I do my best to be completely unhelpful. "I think the right one's bigger than the other." "The left one looks kind of _alive_." "Neji, have you done this before?"

"Shut up!" Neji hisses at me, and gives up trying to fix the socks. "I hope I've made them small enough that no one will be eyeing your breasts anyway." He stands back, and surveys his work, nodding approvingly.

Even though I know they're not really my boobs, I quickly pull up the dress to stop him from staring. God, is this what girls feel like? I'm never openly gaping a woman's boobs _ever again_.

Neji helps me pull up the zipper on the dress, then leaves me to my own devices. I'm fine with that. I usually _enjoy_ dressing myself, thank you. I note that he activates his Byakugan and gazes at the door, which I assume he is doing to check the hallway. Since his expression doesn't change I assume we're fine so far.

"Hanabi's here."

* * *

I just stand there, and Neji's incessant tugging on the sleeve of my dress isn't going to move me. The clouds . . . its been so long. They're like close friends I haven't seen in years, which might actually be true. I've told them a lot of my shit, and they've kept quiet about it—not that they have a choice, y'know?

These clouds remind me of Choji, who sat me with me time after time, each of us munching on some food this mother had made us. I don't want to think about Choji.

These clouds remind me of Temari, who also used to lie with me, gazing up at the sky in silence. Sometimes instead of lying next to me, she would lie her head gently on my stomach, her hair down. I don't want to think about Temari, either.

Man, these clouds even remind me of Ino. Whenever she caught me staring off at them while she was telling Choji and I about her latest futile attempts to get a ride on the Sasuke Train, she would smack me upside the head. Ino . . . I think I can think about her.

"How's Ino?" I ask Neji softly, partly because I don't want anyone to hear, but also because I'm just afraid to ask.

"Yamanaka Ino?" He responds, looking relieved that he can now easily pull me along. "I heard they've already finished with her."

I look at him blankly for a moment. "What the _hell_ is that supposed to mean?" I pull frantically at my sleeve, trying to stop his relentless pace. "Now that I think about it, you haven't explained a single _damn_ thing!"

"Neji-sama . . . don't you think it would be better to explain something to him?" the girl that Neji introduced as his cousin interrupts him gently. I suppose she knows how to deal with him from past experience. I agree wholehearted. Finally, he seems to relent.

He hisses in a sharp and low whisper, "You want to know? I think that the new Hokage and his lackeys are abusing of their authority to gain more power for themselves. You want to know what I believe they have done to your friends—my friends too, I suppose? I think they have stolen their unique talents." I just stare at him a bit, my mind making a sad attempt to wrap itself around that.

"Unique talents? You don't mean . . . they said that they died in the war, like Choji . . ." I stutter, but Neji interrupts me with a hand. He glances around carefully, as if annoyed at me for possibly giving us away.

"Let's go, dear," he says in a completely different kind of tone, the kind a husband uses to a wife. You know, that kind of tips me off about what kind of ideas he has about hiding me. I should have said something, really. I should have _done_ something, even.

But I didn't. "Then you'll explain later . . . honey?" I reply in a very _polite_ tone. I'm not going to go as far as Neji is and speak sweetly, but I will be . . . civil.

"Of course." I exchange glances with Hanabi, and I hope I look appropriately grateful. After all, with her prod he had revealed a little bit to me . . . although I don't feel much better. Now I'm left in suspense . . .I mean, what the hell does he mean by unique talents? Were they trying to take away Sasuke's Sharingan? Is that the claim he made before he escaped with Naruto?

If Neji's right, then . . . was Sakura's fate going to be my own? I think back on how she had reacted, on how she had been a mere _shell_ of the boisterous girl she had once been. Had they taken again her ability to keep her chakra flow steady, and in doing so, her superhuman strength? Is that even possible?

And just what had they expected to gain from _me_? Anyone can learn a shadow jutsu, really. My intelligence? You can't take away someone's intelligence.

Can you?

Finally, after what seems like a lifetime of stress and paranoia and _thinking_, we reach what I assume is Neji's home. On the outskirts of where the Hyuga clan resides, it's a small, humble home. He signals for me to follow him inside, and waves a silent farewell to this cousin. Before leaving she places a firm hand on my shoulder, and a grateful smile plays on her lips. What? I haven't done a thing for her . . . right?

I didn't go out with her, did I? She's too _young_! Still, I have my doubts.

Once inside with the silently brooding Neji, and immediately begin stripping off the dress. As bisexual as I may be, I do not enjoy the experience of wearing a dress. He politely turns the other way, as if I'm a girl. This infuriates me further instead of making me feel respected, or whatever he as aiming for. "I'm still a guy, damn it, Neji! You've seen a penis before."

He doesn't turn around, but I see his shoulders tense, in anger I assume. Stupid prick, I think to myself. "Clothes, Neji!" I call out, reach back and trying to unhook the damn torture device on my chest myself.

I think he uses this as an excuse just to get away from me. I can't say I'm not glad. He returns with a gray robe in his arms, and he tosses it at my feet, glaring at me all the while.

Stupid prick.

I put it up as soon as the bra falls to the floor, and I pull it quickly over my exposed shoulders. I have my share of scars, some I recognize, most that I don't. I've always felt a bit self-conscious about skinny ol' me, but I've never allowed myself to bother too much with it. In this case, though, it's hard to keep back a blush with Neji's eyes so intently locked on me.

Finally, I've tied the robe up, and the two of us are just . . . standing there. I stare at him, he glares at me, I glare at him, he glances over to the side, I look down to the ground, he . . .

"You never told me how Ino is," I remind him harshly, crossing my arms almost defensively over my chest.

He coughs nervous, and he can't meet my eyes as he answers. "I . . . I think they finished with her, too."

"W. . . what do you mean? Fucking _explain_ yourself!" I'm getting angry now, but I think I have a good, reasonable excuse to do so. Neji just says things like _they're finished with her_. Who's they? Well, that question is easily answered. The Hokage. Koihei-sama.

But the question of what they _began_ on her is the one that keeps me stumped.

"You don't want to go see her, okay? I never knew her well, but even _I _notice the immense difference in personality." Ino? She's always been the same, even as time passes. Loud, bitchy, helpful, obsessive, blondie, stubborn; in a nutshell . . ._troublesome_. I can't imagine an Ino that isn't like that. She just wouldn't be _Ino_. "She's very reserved now, and keeps to her family's flower shop. I think she is still a Chuunin, but I've never seen her go on a mission since she got out of the hospital." Neji catches my question before it even leaves my lips. "Yes, she got injured in the war, midway through, I think. Choji was still alive then, and they wouldn't let him visit her. Soon afterward, the two of us left on a mission and. . . I'm grateful your friend never saw the girl of his dreams like she is now."

How the _hell_ did _Neji_ of all people know Choji was head over heals in love with Ino? Neji, who was a selfish, arrogant, single-minded prick. Had _Choji_ told him? Choji normally would not have had the nerve so say a word to Neji. Not that he was necessary _scared_ of the white-eyed boy, but he never saw a reason to find the courage to converse with him.

Neji turns around again, and says from over his shoulder, "Do you want something to eat?"

I sigh deeply, and I follow him into the small kitchen. I don't expect Neji to speak any more, but to my surprise, he's not finished yet. I sit down on a chair by the wall, and I cross my arms over my chest, almost instinctively.

"You have a good reason to be very grateful to your friend Choji. He made me promise to not allow you to be turned into another shadow ninja." I take it that 'shadow ninja' is a term for those who have been taken by the Hokage for . . . whatever it is they do. "And in any case, you tried to save Hinata-chan."

What? I did? "I suppose you might not remember it, but you were on a mission with her, and you took the shot instead of her. It's why you were hospitalized to begin with." Ah, I might not remember it, but I open my robe a little to reveal the skin of my stomach. There's a deep, contorted scar on one side. Is that where . . . ?

"In fact, you were in worse condition that Choji was. . . I'm surprised no one's been intelligent enough to connect the dots by now. You, who were on the verge of death, were saved, but Choji, who was mildly injured, died of 'complications'. Odd, is it not?" People have probably figured it out, but don't have the _guts_ to stand up to the Hokage. People manage to convince themselves of lies when they really want to.

"So, when did Choji make your promise to save me?" Choji? From what Neji was saying, he'd gotten a little close to Choji, and I was curious as to how and why.

Neji turns from the counter—where he was messing around with food and utilizes and shit—and stares me sharply. I feel like cringing under his gaze, but I don't. "Choji and I were placed together on a mission. It was the two of us and a younger nin named Konohamaru. Since your friend and I were alone for a good bit of time—not counting the Chuunin—we had no choice but to converse. Which is how I find myself knowing a bit more about the man than you might have assumed.

A bit more? Try, too much.

"Well, as I mentioned," Neji continues smoothly, "Choji was mildly injured, and I brought him to the hospital. I found it odd that he had died from the wounds he had received. So I snuck in, and I searched his room for some kind of hint of what had happened to him. I found something under his mattress."

By this time, I'm leaning forward a bit, completely spellbound by his words. Finally, I was getting some answers.

"It was a note. It said that they were giving him pills, and that while he took them, he got temporary amnesia. Then . . . they were probing him or something, and that they kept telling him to do his Baika No Jutsu, and seemed a bit put out when he succeeded in doing so. It was like a journal until . . . he said that he had a feeling they were going to kill him. He didn't explain it at all, but simple said that whoever was reading this should at all costs try to stop this from happening to others. Especially you, Shikamaru."

Choji. So this is how you died. . . I close my eyes, and rub my temples roughly with both hands. I am getting a headache.

"Neji, I'm bringing these bastards down," I say as I look at Neji's serious face. "Are you with me or not?"

* * *

**I rarely do the whole 'there's one step from hate to love' thing, but . . . this just evolved that way. I don't seen Shikamaru liking Neji too much, at least from what he initially knows about him. **

**Potential mpreg. . . DON'T GIVE ME THAT LOOK. I could _possibly_ pull it off . . . **


End file.
